not just any poemnor merely for any soulthe greatest of All poemsnot for its prosenot for it's wordingnot for it's ability to transcendbut just for it's beingand the simple pleasures it represents

weary daydreamsfathoming oblivionwhere can it take uswhat answers begotso many examplesof statements unheardwishes and hexesare the Gods listening?if not, then it's just you and me.

nowhere else are these words more clearerthan in the mind of my musewhere moths catch flameand spiders nestwhere beauty lies stillbeyond the coldnessbeyond what's been savedfrom the root of the atomwhere soft smoke permeatesand the truth lies skinned and bare.